Silent Voices Screaming
by EarnestInBerlin
Summary: And your shriek breaks the night.
1. Chapter 1

Shuichi was sitting in front of him eating ice cream silently.

Yuki was sitting in front of him smoking Marlboro silently.

The ocean was singing to them again.

Yuki was staring angrily at the scene.

Shuichi just dipped his spoon inside the bowl of cream.

The moon was shinning red tonight for them.

Shuichi didn't lift his head as he heard his lover grumble for another pack of his smoke.

Yuki let his eyes take an almost dangerous glint as he let his hands travel around his pocket in search of his vice.

The window was open with the curtains like fingers beckoning out to anyone who would take their heed, 'Come here'.

Yuki found his one last cancer tick of the night inside a battered box.

Shuichi looked out the window, with the spoon inside his mouth.

There was the song that Yuki never seems to hear calling out his name again.

Shuichi could take notice of the voice, that sensuous sound coming from the bay where the slapping of water on the rocks did its work.

Yuki didn't seem to take heed of the calling that the other could hear every night.

"Yuki, do you hear that?" Shuichi asked, looking out the window, staring at the lovely scene of waters.

"No" Yuki replied while he reached for his lighter.

"Yuki, there it goes…"

"There's nothing there"

Shuichi looked at the lighter Yuki placed on the table, it had a little sticker on one side. Just a small rectangular like shaped sticker, with his and Yuki's face giving the looker a beaming face. There were hearts that traced the edges.

He went back to his ice cream.

Yuki didn't go anywhere at all, didn't even bother to.

But Shuichi couldn't help but be disturbed by the sound of singing voices claiming his ears. Every time he looks at his lover's side- just a few peeks and a stealing glance- he could see it in the other's face that he was not in anyway troubled. The pink-haired boy feared that he hasn't heard anything at all for the time that they spent here.

**(Flashback)**

Shuichi didn't like the house the first time he saw it, but he was enthusiastic when they left his boyfriend's apartment. He should keep his happy nature in check for Yuki not to hear the disappointment in his tones. It wasn't that the house was of terrible state; on the contrary it was as if time has never passed by at all for the charming mansion by the sea.

Shuichi couldn't point at the bloody roses that made him think of flowers left to rot at funerals. He just couldn't but there was something about them that helped raise the scream of fear in his throat, it was self-control and optimism that pushed the screech of terror back down.

"Wow, Yuki! This house is huge!" the bright-eyed boy exclaimed.

"Yeah, I know, I know…" the blond writer carried bags in his thin arms.

"Hey, Yuki, let me help you with that" Shuichi called out to his trying lover.

"About time you said that…Here" Yuki dropped a heavy bag in Shuichi's open arms, "You carry that"

Shuichi almost fell and it was a comical sight, but no one was there to laugh at the scene. "Yuki… this is so heavy!"

"Well, pack less next time" was the only the other said as he left the bags he carried on the wooden floor of the front porch. For a moment, he took his time regaining his breath while behind him the little boy was moving left to right in a clumsy fashion screaming at Yuki for help.

And to which Yuki didn't seem to hear at all.

"Oh god, I'm beat" he said, pulling out a fag from his pocket.

With that done, and oblivious to Shuichi's trouble from behind, he puffed a couple of smokes and pulled out the keys to the house.

"Yuki…!"

"Just wait a minute brat" Yuki said, as he twisted the keys left to right. To his annoyance, the door didn't push.

"Yuki!"

"Shut up"

"WHAT!"

Shuichi tumbled forwards to him with the entire luggage that he was forced to carry dangerously dangling from his arms. Yuki's was mouth open but he was too late to act when the whole world fell on him and they both crashed and fell into a heap.

**(SPACE HERE)**

A/N: I'm just continuing if anyone likes it… So if you like it… review!


	2. Chapter 2

"_Don't touch me"_

_Paint that picture of blood between your legs, your hair in disarray, and your clothes torn to shreds by the person you promised to kill with your own hands. Your world was nothing more than a sepia tinted film with broken edges. Can you feel your heart beating like a drum on the morning of war? _

_Your sweat slides from your hair and you could hear his voice claiming every inch of your mind. _

"_Doku wa? Doku wa?" _

_Violet eyes run wild from left to right, trying to calm yourself with fake assurance that no one can find you there. You move back, with steps that shake and shiver with every none-existent move you think that is coming to take you away. _

"_Leave me alone"_

_Your hands clutch your hair in an attempt to salvage whatever piece of sanity you can keep to yourself. You turn around and round like a confused child, wondering where do these voices live? Did they take residence in your brain to torment you until the end of eternity? Or did they live here in the real world?_

_Your legs were shaking; your body gets into a crazed frenzy with a heated fever kissing the brow of your forehead. Each turn spins your head like a piece of clockwork, all going, clock wise right. You threw away hallucination as a lie and tell yourself that the world want to strip you down._

"_Found you"_

_You muffled scream on his hand, he smells the scent of insanity in your raven hair and pulls you in an embrace with his arm around your waist. He pulls you back to that so called loving embrace of his. You panic in his presence and tried to take the leash off, only rendering it to pull you closer. _

_His sing song voice tried to usher you to childish slumber laced with rape. And he pulls you back, beneath the darkness, between the trees. You both disappear._

_And your shriek breaks the night. _

Shuichi's eyes open.

When he reached out for the digital clock on their bedside table, he could see 1:30 in bright red beaming up at him. He sits up and Yuki's sleeping arm falls off from where it was holding him in a lover's (not so) tight hug.

He puts a hand to his face and tried to wipe away the sweat that licked his features. His breath was loud and heavy, the dread of the unknown was still dancing around him. Where did this all come from? His heart felt like it was ready to run out of his body and flee whatever danger that might come its way. His legs were shaking; did he really run that race?

The pink-haired boy turned the lamp on and let his feet meet with the floor. His hand still over his face, his eyes close with running images of a dream that he never ever had before.

It was a struggle to stand, and it was also a battle to walk. His heart was torn out of his body; there was the pain in his chest that wouldn't stop haunting him. Shuichi swayed a bit from left to right, his knees knocking each other most of the time. He let his free hand take the duty of his eyes by letting it slide across the white walls.

Shuichi could swear he hears voices. Every time he asks Yuki about them, he says he couldn't hear any. The blond would wave his hand and tell him to go back to sleep. But by then, the forty winks have been stolen from his now alert mind and he couldn't let his eyes rest anymore.

White light flooded his vision as he finally got to the bathroom. His eyes took its time adjusting to the stinging radiance. He went over to the sink with the mirror and tried to make out what was wrong with him. Was he really going insane? The sound of water spilling from the tap helped him return to the real world. And Shuichi gathered a handful of crystal clear liquid with his hands, and then dipped his beautiful face in that wet embrace.

When Shuichi pulled his face back to look at the mirror, he could see the water clinging to the sides like tears.

The wind stopped cooing him and all he could hear are yells of a faceless voice.

"Oi…" he turned around and saw his sleep deprived Yuki leaning on the frame of the door.

"Hey, lover" he smiled, knowing full well how the writer despises that nickname. "Why are you here?"

"Because the bed's suddenly too big and I was wondering how that happened" he smiled with devilish charms, there were something about that grin that dropped the terror in his wake. "Come on, fill up the empty space"

Yuki said this with the flare of a poet, his hands openly telling the boy to take those steps back to his arms. The man was so fucking romantic, was all that Shuichi thought as he took the offer.

"Yuki…" Shuichi found himself being kissed on the forehead.

"Hm…?" the other whispered by his ear. Yuki had wrapped his arms over the boy's shoulders from behind and leaned his weight on them. "What's up in your little head, baka?"

"Um, nothing…"

Maybe tomorrow he could tell Yuki about it.

**(SPACE HERE)**

A/N: I am so not inspired… Hey, anyone interested in reading the real version of Death of a Pop Star? I'm going to post it up if I get more thumbs up! You get a cookie if you agree!


	3. Chapter 3

Yuki likes to pretend he never hears those voices whenever Shuichi asks him about it. He hears them too, but he would rather deny the fact because he was never a believer of the paranormal. Yet again, he was not sure if it was okay to assume such things as paranormal this early stage. Maybe Shuichi is just hearing things and that's all.

It's a scary thing to think about though. It sends shivers down his spine, sometimes in the middle of the night when a hint of inspiration would come… that voice would follow too. It's like a shadow that won't go away.

He just pretends that it doesn't exist, that way, no one can know of the delusional requests it makes.

Nevertheless there were times when he could see a figure walking by the door. It was black, of course it was black it was in the middle of the night. But sometimes he could actually see it during the middle of the day; he would see a flicker or a flash or a smudge of black pass by in the day light's scene. The window was open with the curtains hovering, the cold wind from nowhere making rounds.

He once followed where the wind took him and found himself at the attic. There was nothing there, just a large cobweb that hung on the wall like a design. Other than that there was nothing there, just empty space that needed to be filled.

And by then, he would tell himself he was an idiot. However he could hear the voice again, his words creeping by his neck and climbing in his ear in a sadist's whisper.

It scares him when he could hear that ghost talk to him, taking over his mind and telling him to do things his way. But when Yuki shakes his hand, the apparitions would disappear.

That's when he's lucky.

**(SPACE HERE)**

The paragraph wasn't finished. It couldn't be helped when his hands didn't even bother go at least five inches near the letter imprinted pads. He very well knew that this paragraph won't write itself, but the superfluous metaphors didn't run today. It was just a classic case of writer's block. The writer in him ran out of his reach and he was forced to look for some sort of inspiration to pull the words out of his for now useless head.

Yuki slid the door to the side, allowing him space to move out of the room in which he has encased himself.

His new study was quite like the old one he had before, with exception of the door needing to be slid often just for one to enter and exit. There was also the absence of the noisy picture of the city, with traffic out his window to be replaced by the romantic lapping waves of the ocean.

Sock covered feet padded on the spotless floor as he kept his eyes open for an influence of some sort.

He reached their living room; the gleaming atmosphere almost blinded him. He could tell that boy busied himself with housework. The scent of fresh pine lifting up his mood a bit, wafting all around the room making him addicted. When his foot made contact with an alien object he had to look down, and what he saw was a broom. The long handle was what his eyes followed and it leads him to the plastic sprayer where the scent belonged to.

These two items led him to the center of the room, which held the couch. And on top of the couch was an obviously tired Shuichi snoozing with a hand over his face.

The writer grinned, such a beautiful angel, lying there with his petite digits covering his lovely face. One of his legs has already reached the ground whilst the rest of him was still glued to that comfy piece of furniture. The blond couldn't help but go to where the boy lay, thinking of how the boy was his paragon of a muse.

It never did to fail him that sometimes a grand amount of what was written in his novel were, how to put this, taken from real accounts.

From the start, Yuki was a pervert at heart and that rape was anything but new to him.

He pulled the hand away from the muse's face, so he could stare at that slumber struck expression of his.

Shuichi, ever loving innocence all trapped between the two pillars that were his arms. His lips hovered over those moist pink one, slightly open for whatever reason there might be. His golden orbs reduced themselves to smaller slits, falling into temptation but wanting to keep looking at that sleeping face.

The pink haired brat was oblivious to the advances being pushed on him. Sleeping was a serious matter to the young man and it would take quite a time for slumber to shake off his shoulders.

And there Yuki found himself, dangerously sliding a hand up the oversized shirt of his little boy. Feeling tanned skin with all knowing fingers, tickling a spot here and there. Hearing in response to his feather light caresses, he proceeded to do more than just childish teases.

Sleeping beauty, unknowing sweet child, was responsive through moans and heads that twisted itself left and right. One reason or another, wide violet orbs refused to open. They were shut tight in a forced manner, almost as if not wanting to get out of the realms of this usually nocturnal activity.

Yuki lowered his head, "You're mine"

A one sided kiss was served.

And the body beneath him responded with two cautious hands pushing his chest away, trying but with sleep keeping the pressure low. The blond novelist could see the start of struggle, and it did amuse him that Shuichi was capable of actions even when asleep. And he could hear him the boy groaning, as if saying 'stop it'.

"Hn…"

But Yuki couldn't stop; he invaded Shuichi's mouth with his tongue. He pretended that the once serene face was contorted to discomfort. He held those two wrists with his own, keeping them from pushing him away.

Like hard candy, bittersweet almost to the taste. Peppery somewhere along the way, hurts somewhere when he realizes it hurts.

His heart pounded fast in his chest, drums beating to a song made for war.

_Mine._

_All mine. _

"Stop it…"

Faint like a whisper, seducing like cotton candy lips begging.

He stopped.

And looked at his lover, the boy went on his side and curled, as if he was undisturbed. He returned back to his sleep, as if nothing happened at all.

**(SPACE HERE)**

A/N: What on earth… did I just write? I heart Porno Graffitti!


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